


glitch

by leedeeloo



Category: TWRP | Tupper Ware Remix Party (Band)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-28
Updated: 2018-01-07
Packaged: 2019-02-23 05:28:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13183308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leedeeloo/pseuds/leedeeloo
Summary: Something went wrong with Sung.Warning applies to second chapter.





	1. Chapter 1

It was sudden. Like a switch flipped and released a spring, all this energy and tension being let out all at once. It was hard to tell who snapped. 

There was this high pitched trilling, a strained scream, no words at all. A dull thud of skin hitting skin, a punch. More of that trilling. 

It was Sung and Phobos. 

Phobos still had his fist against Sung’s cheek, grinding his knuckles against bone. Sung was holding Phobos close, right arm around Phobos’ back, hand on his left shoulder as if they were dancing. His left hand was gripping Phobos’ elbow, keeping his hand away. 

All Phobos was really trying to do was shove Sung back. Something had gone wrong, there was this terrifying look on Sung’s face, the colours in his eye flickering and shifting wildly. Phobos didn’t know why, and at the present moment, didn’t really care. 

Sung turned his head and bit Phobos on the thick part of his hand where his thumb connected. 

Phobos screamed, wrenched his hand away and started slamming it into Sung’s head, right above the temple over and over. It just brought this numbness to his hand, like he was striking a metal wall, feeling the impact all the way down to his elbow.

For some reason, Sung let go. Released Phobos’ arm, let him out of his grasp and stepped back. He didn’t say anything, just stared.

Phobos turned and ran. 

He just had to get down the stairs and then outside, and he’d be fine. It was dusk, he’d be okay. He didn’t know where Meouch had gone, but Havve was probably in the backyard, the garden. Havve would help him, Havve was a match for Sung, could knock him out and stop this. 

He almost slammed into the wall as he heard Sung’s steps behind him. Just down the stairs, out the front door, and around the house to Havve.

He started running down the stairs and then tripped. He tumbled all the way down, feet over head and then back again, all the way to the bottom. He didn’t linger down there, not like before. Sung was coming down, a little faster than when he came down the hall. Phobos grabbed the doorknob, pulling himself up, twisting and yanking it.

The door was locked.

Sung was halfway down the stairs.

Phobos’ hands shook as he turned the deadbolt knob, almost slapping it open. He yanked the door open and shoved the screen door open. He slammed the heavier door shut, and flicked on the lock on the screen door before pushing it shut. It would give him some extra time. 

He took long strides along the side of the house, glad there weren’t windows there, that no one ever properly shut the gate. He kept near the fence in the backyard, an eye on the back door. Once he was all the way back, he sprinted to the garden. He couldn’t see Havve, but the plants were thick and high, he could be crouching. Or in the shed. 

Just as he realized Havve wasn’t in the garden, he saw Sung in the back door. Still just walking, confident he’d catch up.

Phobos stumbled over the plants to the shed, banging on the wall as he made his way to the door in the front, closer to Sung. He tried to yank open the door but it was locked on the inside, so he kept banging. He started screaming, making that trilling noise, so Havve would know it was him and something was wrong. 

The door rattled and swung open. Havve was covered in something, tilting his head curiously. Phobos pushed his way in, stood behind Havve, pointed over his shoulder at Sung. Phobos kept squeaking, whimpering.

One look at Sung and Havve understood. He silently approached him, in much the same way Sung was approaching. 

Once they were close enough together, Havve punched Sung square in the chest, no hesitation. Sung let out this congested cough, brought a hand up to where Havve hit him. Havve raised his other fist, and struck Sung in the back, making him collapse to the ground. 

He seemed to be still, but Phobos stayed where he was, gripping his injured hand.

Havve folded Sung’s arms behind his back and then rolled him over, stepping in the middle of his chest to keep him down. Sung’s eye was closed, and Havve pushed open the lid, inspecting some part of it. He let Sung’s eye shut and rolled him back over, using his foot to hold Sung’s arms. He turned to face Phobos, waving him over. 

Phobos tiptoed over, still scared. Havve held his hand up, telling him to stop when he was about a meter away. Havve brought his fingers under his chin, pressing something.

“Twine,” an artificial voice croaked out. “Front. On left.” 

Phobos went back to the shed, following the directions. Hanging on the inside of the door, right to his left, was a thick spool of twine, rough and strong. He grabbed it and marched back, holding it out at arm's length so he could keep his distance. 

Havve took the twine, crouched down, and got to work trying Sung up. He made relatively quick work of it, Sung’s folded arms bound behind him. Sung started to wake up, started fussing and squirming, kicking his feet, letting out a wordless snarl. 

Havve readjusted, kneeling on Sung, holding both his ankles down with one hand, the other to his chin again. 

“Scissor. On stool,” Havve uttered, and Phobos went to fetch the pair. When he gave them to Havve, he grabbed Phobos’ hand, turning it over to look at the bite mark, the bruises. “Glove,” Havve added, “by twine.” Phobos turned back as Havve cut the twine and tied a sturdy knot. 

He had already started tying Sung’s ankles together, to keep him from kicking. He didn’t take the gloves until he tied it off. Then he shoved them into Sung’s mouth, wrapping the twine around his head to hold them in. 

Havve stood up, confident in his handiwork. He picked Sung up and hoisted him over his shoulder in one smooth motion. Havve turned to Phobos and tilted his head towards the house, telling him to walk in front. 

Phobos went ahead, eager to not stick around. He saw as he was heading upstairs, Havve heading to the basement. He lingered on the stairs for a bit, just incase Havve needed him, but he heard a thud echo out from downstairs and he ran on up. 

Though Sung hadn’t broken the skin when he bit Phobos, bruises from Sung’s teeth added to the glowing patches of the other bruises on his hand. He was running his hand under cold water, to soothe it, to calm himself. He ached all over, falling down the stairs really did a number on him. His head was pounding too, and he felt woozy, sick to his stomach. 

He bent over and put his face by the faucet, let the water pool in his hands and dunked his face into it, keeping his palms pressed to his cheeks for a long while. He shut off the water and left the bathroom without drying his face. 

Carefully, he made his way down the stairs, and slowly plodded to the basement. He didn’t go down there much, just for laundry. 

There was a light on at the bottom of the stairs, and that was it. 

Phobos went down the steps slowly, just to see, just to sate his curiosity. He was holding his breath, just going down far enough to see what Havve was doing. 

Sung was on some kind of gurney, still bound, makeshift gag in. Lying on his front, Havve’s hand on the back of Sung’s head. There was the sound of a computer shutting off, a click followed by some static, and then Havve moved to cut the twine. He was wearing gloves, latex gloves, Phobos realized, and there was a tray of almost surgical tools set out. 

Havve looked up suddenly, directly at Phobos, and they stared at each other for a beat. Then he looked back down, cutting the twine, Sung’s limbs limp and harmless now. Phobos stayed crouched on the stairs, birds eye over the scene, watching Havve as he hopefully fixed whatever had happened. 

Havve moved slowly and methodically, gathering things from various cupboards, never really searching, he always just knew where things were stored. He kept going back to Sung, and Phobos really didn’t pay attention  when he did, forcing his eyes to unfocus. He didn’t want to look, didn’t want to think about what was going on, what had happened.

When he finally clued back in, there were wires trailing from the back of Sung’s neck out, not connected to anything, Havve was just setting up that end of the connection now. It wasn’t so much that he was knocked out, but more that he was shut down. Havve booted up the computer that was nearby, that Phobos always wondered why it was so close to all the medical stuff, why he’d never seen Sung use it for anything during his checkups. He’d assumed it had something to with with Havve, but it was looking like he was wrong about it.

Everything was ready for Sung to be hooked up to that computer, and it seemed like Havve was hesitating. He started looking for something. Squatting down, looking under the gurney.

Something made Phobos’ stomach drop when Havve started strapping Sung into restraints, keeping him held down. He started rubbing his wrists, some sympathetic sensation he was compelled to soothe. His legs tensed, he wanted to stand up, didn’t want to watch, but that urge was ignored. He watched Havve plug wire after wire into port after port, examining them closely, being absolutely sure as he went. Havve lingered at the last one, twitched his head up, peering at Phobos.

Both of them held their breath as he plugged it in.

Sung didn’t move at all, but a window opened on the computer. Havve looked at it. He dragged a chair over, having to go the long way around the gurney, and sat, slowly typing, reading.

Even though he couldn’t see anything that was going on, Phobos stayed where he was. Leaving wasn’t an option; he had to make sure everything was going to be okay again. But neither was going all the way down, watching over Havve’s shoulder, being next to Sung, just in case.

Just in case.

He stayed on the stairs, clinging to the column holding up the bannister, not knowing what he was waiting for.

Somewhere, in all his silent watching, he lost track of time. He didn’t want to think he’d nodded off. Suddenly, Havve was in front of him, at the foot of the stairs, reaching out, surprised that Phobos had moved before he touched him. 

“He’s asleep,” Havve said, artificial voice softer, smaller, than it was before. He jerked his head, pointing with it, towards where Sung was laying. Still face down, restraints still on. All of the wires were disconnected, Havve had done whatever he needed to, but evidently didn’t fully trust its success. 

Phobos stood, breezed along behind Havve, heading towards Sung. Slowly at first, then confidently faster as he heard Havve’s steps behind him.

He really was just asleep. His only movement was slow steady breaths, he looked as normal as ever. Phobos circled him, observing, ignoring the restraints at his wrists and ankles, noting the patch of gauze taped on the nape of his neck. He touched Sung, carefully, barely grazing his skin, tracing along the gauze.

He looked at Havve, a million questions buzzing in his brain, one of the most pressing being what to ask first.

Havve shrugged. Hand to chin. “Glitch,” he offered simply, and that was that.


	2. [BAD END]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [ERROR FOUND]  
> [GLITCH PERSISTED]  
> [INITIATING SYSTEM SHUT DOWN]

Phobos turned and ran.

He just had to get down the stairs and then outside, and he’d be fine. It was dusk, he’d be okay. He didn’t know where Meouch had gone, but Havve was probably in the backyard, the garden. Havve would help him, Havve was a match for Sung, could knock him out and stop this.

He almost slammed into the wall when he heard Sung’s step behind him. Just down the stairs, out the front door, and around the house to Havve.

He started running down the stairs and then tripped. He tumbled all the way down, feet over head and then back again, all the way to the bottom. All of a sudden he was woozy, and he didn’t want to linger, but his limbs wouldn’t listen to him. He felt dizzy from the inside, the very core of him moved over from his body and head’s impact with the stairs, over and over.

His eyes wouldn’t focus, there was something in the way. All he could hear was Sung thumping down the stairs and this overbearing ringing.

Sung got all the way down and plopped down on top of Phobos, landing on his gut, making his stomach pinch and churn. Phobos tried to get his body to listen to him, to roll over, to shove Sung away, kick him, something. But it was like he was slogging through syrup, everything feeling heavier than normal.

Sung clamped his hands around Phobos’ neck. Phobos grabbed at Sung’s wrists, tried to pull him off but he held steady. He tried kicking, scratching, even reached up and shoved his hand in Sung’s face, anything if it might make him stop. He couldn’t scream, he could see that the back door was open, anyone out there would hear if he could just get the air in him to yell.

His arms kept getting heavier, it was harder to see, dark spots coming into his vision. His face felt tight, felt things shift and crack in his neck. He couldn’t keep his arm up anymore, and heard it hit the floor with a thud without really feeling it. The fingers of the hand grabbing Sung’s wrist tingled and then weakened shortly after, going limp.

Phobos’ body went still, only slow sporadic thumps in his chest left. Sung kept squeezing, waiting for absolutely everything to be done.

It was sickeningly silent when Sung finally stood.

**Author's Note:**

> please let me know what you think!


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